A Day Brighter and a Heart Warmer
by RenaRoo
Summary: Cassandra is injured, but rarely does that keep her sidelined. Her father seems to think he'll be able to keep her off an injured ankle, but Cass isn't so sure.


anonymous prompted: With Cass temporarily benched from crimefighting with a broken ankle (bonus points if she broke it doing something ridiculous off duty, probably dared by Steph), Bruce decides this is an ideal time to cheer her up via a father-daughter day in civvies.

This is a lot choppier than I wanted it to be, anon, and I apologize! Your amazing prompt deserves a god treatment. Better than this one, that's for sure!

Batman and related properties © DC Comics  
story © RenaRoo

 **A Day Brighter and a Heart Warmer**

It might be the dumbest thing she has done in all of her time in Gotham - before leaving and since returning combined - and, really, that's what makes her so upset about it.

Her brothers try to comfort her by reminding her that she _did_ take out Killer Croc entirely by herself and without any equipment besides her grappling line and the Batarangs she had left at the end of patrol. Try to remind her that there were little to no damages and absolutely no bystanders caught in the crossfire.

But at the end of the day, Cassandra is laying in the back of the Batmobile as Dick and Damian drive her home, her foot propped up and no need for X-Rays to know that she completely broke the bone.

"It could be worse, Little Sister," Dick begins to levy the situation again.

 _"Don't!"_ she hisses in warning.

"Alright then," Dick responds without so much as a flinch.

* * *

Bruce examines her foot, cowl off and hair sticking to his forehead in clumps of sweat. Cass begins to move the strands from his eyes but he shoots her a look.

"I'm going to run X-Rays, but it's definitely broken, Cassie," he tells her as he lowers her leg as if it's made of glass.

She makes a point to hit it on the ground hard once he lets go, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg as a result.

"I _knew_ that," she snaps.

"Then you know why I'm benching you," he says in return, arms folded across his chest. "I'm not risking you getting further injured out there. What were you even doing, taking on Croc without backup and without resources." He frowns. "That's just not even smart, Cassandra. You're better than that."

"I knocked him out," she protests. She crosses her arms, eyes narrowed. "It was a good kick. His head's just… much harder."

Which is saying something because she's kicked some really thick skulled idiots before.

"Don't defend it, it was dumb," Bruce says. "And don't think of getting out of being benched."

Cass nearly hisses at the notion. "Can't stop me. Don't need _Black Bat_ to do this."

"But having two ankles will help," Bruce replies crisply. "Again, don't even think about it."

 _"Bruce."_

"Cassandra."

They glare at each other for a moment before Cass rubs her head. "What else am I supposed to do? Won't let me practice, too."

"We'll work it out," he promises. "Just trust me. You won't be bored being benched until that ankle's better. Just wait."

She eyes him but drops her protests. For the moment.

* * *

Cass has never been much for early mornings. And, really, there's never been that much pressure attached to waking up at whatever time she pleases.

But it's the morning after that disastrous patrol - long after Tim would be at work, Damian at school, Dick to work, and so on - that Cassandra is gently shook awake by a familiar, large hand.

Bruce is standing over her, dressed down from his usual business suit but not exactly in the sweats she has seen him frequent when it's a recuperation day.

She's really not sure what to make of this "Bruce Wayne" lording over her in a polo and khakis. Cass isn't even sure she _wants_ to know, or if that'd make her want to punch the lights out in her room any less.

"It's almost ten, rise and shine," Bruce says lightly, a little too amused for Cass' tastes. "Would you like to do your stretches first or have breakfast?"

Cass glares at him. "Sleep."

He laughs. "Not going to happen." He smirks. "I promised."

She throws a pillow at him to make him leave, but she does end up rolling out of bed. She's only partially ashamed of the way she flinches when her left foot hits the ground.

Stretches go by soon enough and Cass goes downstairs to the kitchen only for Alfred to direct her back to the dining room.

Which makes no sense. They _all_ always eat their personal breakfasts in the kitchen. The dining room is for dinner. But she doesn't protest.

Especially when she sits next to Bruce and they receive pancakes, toast, eggs, and bacon. She eats it all with lots of enjoyment.

Bruce drinks his coffee and watches her more than he eats his own meal.

"After you're done, go back upstairs and get dressed," he tells her. "We've got a full day."

Cass raises her brow but stuffs another helping of eggs in her mouth all the same.

She'll play along. For now.

* * *

The lunchtime rush is just beginning when they get started. Cass looks fashionable - not really by her own choice - and Bruce looks like he just walked out of the Gotham Country Club.

She wonders if it's possibly a stunt - a diversion of some sort - when Bruce looks over to her with a smirk, speeds up the Royce.

Cassandra is then _certain_ they're up to no good together.

When they pull up to the first department store, Cass slips out, careful on her wounded ankle. She hates the boot Bruce is making her wear. It's already getting stares. Not to mention how it is slowing her down, lumbering and cumbersome.

"We're shopping?" she asks suspiciously as they continue toward the door. She can still taste her fresh lipstick and her face feels like she's wearing a mask.

"We're shopping," Bruce confirms, holding the door open for Cass and ignoring the people pulling out their camera phones. "And after this store, it's all your picks. We're making it your day."

Cass smirks as they carry themselves on in.

"Hope you don't regret that," she hums. "Or… more. Your wallet."

Bruce laughs.

* * *

They are out for hours when Bruce gets an urgent call to come in to Wayne Enterprises. Immediately.

Cassandra figures that this is the end of her time with Bruce and begins sorting the bags in the backseat so that she'll be able to see through the back window when she drives home.

It's a complete surprise when Bruce not only takes the driver's seat again but does't so much as mention that Cass should be on her way home now that he has business to attend to.

"Alright," Bruce says, parking in his reserved spot before rounding the car and opening Cass' door.

Cassandra stares at him. "You want… _me_ to go in? But… it's _work_ …" she begins only to still accept her father's offered hand and being pulled from the car.

"And miss the rare opportunity of showing off my daughter to my employees?" Bruce asks, locking arms with Cass and guiding her to the building. "Wouldn't dream of it, Cassie."

Ignoring her own limp, Cass hugs Bruce's arm and rests her head against his shoulder during the walk.

It's more than enough for her.

* * *

It's about the time that they pull into the fanciest restaurant in Gotham that Cass is just completely blown away. Not because she particularly cares that it's the fanciest restaurant in town - she could go for a burger and fries at the moment - but because she knows that her father is really going the extra mile on this.

She crosses her arms and tilts her head as he looks down the menu for the both of them.

"You… keeping me away from something?" she asks skeptically.

Bruce looks over the menu, frowning a bit at the accusation.

"Cassandra, we don't spend nearly enough time together anymore," he reminds her. "And you're injured. Because you want to do things to help _me._ You'll have to forgive me if, once in a while, I pamper you after you give me your absolute everything.

Feeling her face become heated, Cass quickly takes her glass and gulps down some water, though she has no illusion that Batman didn't see the way she went teary eye. For a moment.

"Still might sneak out," she tries to joke as a distraction.

"Not going to happen," Bruce says confidently.

* * *

They're driving home, hours and hours after they had first left, and Cass snuggles with the arm Bruce has set on the armrest. He doesn't seem to mind.

They're crossing the bridge into Bristol and still have a good fifteen minutes to drive, but Cass looks to her father anyway. Bites her lip before squeezing his arm extra hard for attention.

"What is it?" he replies with gentle accord.

"Thank you," she says softly. "I hope we have more days together. Just us. Because it was the _most_ fun."

Bruce carries a soft smile and ruffles her hair without looking. "I hope so, Cassie. Because I had lots of fun, too."


End file.
